The way Truffaut has cast himself in this film, flat and soulless, made me feel nervous and stopped watching after 20 minutes. What is it about the art of acting that these shallow and pretentious snobs want to turn dull and robotic, devoid of any passion or emotion, for some supposedly profound expression. Besides, I find that the main character is uninteresting and stupid in fact. A Ridiculous fart.
In depth meditation and poignant examination about the question of the dignity of our dead and how we deal with our humanity through grief and existential trials. One unusual Truffaut film, formidably directed with hints of melancholic grandeur. Interesting to read "la mort interdite" by Philippe Aries, after having watched this movie.
Truffaut's danse macabre turns out, even since the opening credits and the carnage of WWI, to a masterly diatribe on human finitude, loss, and the dialectic of life and death. The fetishistic obituarist is played with waxlike apathy by Truffaut himself with a gorgeously nuanced Bayle next to him striking a chord of life's joy in the grand mausoleum to which he succumbs. Profound, funereal, desperate, and redeeming.
Truffaut said that he made this film—and took the lead role—because he'd reached a point where so many people in his life had died. It's one of his most underrated works, rich and resonant in evoking an obsession with the past that is as unhealthy as it is understandable and flourishes in its historical context. The chief drawback is the end, in which the most interesting threads find closure only through melodrama.
Truffaut is undeniably the great heir of a non discursive narrative cinema, allusively artistic, romanesque. Maybe that's why his films from literary works or its suggestions, like this film, are among his most remarkable movies: there's a writing larger that its imagery and an imagery deeply inscribed in its writing. This film is a summary of the pictorial and literary qualities that an aching vision may invoke.
I don't think I've ever felt so uncomfortable while watching a movie before, yet so warm and moved. Truffaut made a truly morbid and agonizing love letter to the past, to the incapability of accepting disappointments and looking forward. Almendros' photography is gorgeous as usual and, along Jaubert's incredible music, it creates a beautiful and gloomy atmosphere that won't leave anyone unshaken.
Films of Truffaut were very adorable to me. After watching this all I can say is that I like to worship him. How important it is to treasure up memories and value them with care, generosity and love.Truffaut is one of the truest artists of life with exceptional penetrating insight. Orhan Pamuk's 'Istanbul' mesmerized me recently at such level.
Truffaut,ancora una volta,rinnova ed arricchisce il suo cinema con un'altra gemma,un film sulla memoria e sull'incapacità di elaborare il lutto.Il protagonista(il regista stesso) è un uomo ossessionato dai propri morti a tal punto da rinunciare ai "suoi" vivi ed alla vita stessa per crogiolarsi nelle tenebre dell'ineluttabilità.Campi stretti e carrellate da estasi.Un film originale,da vedere e rivedere.4*